


Vaults & Varkids

by Kyla_Wren



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 17:56:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20393797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyla_Wren/pseuds/Kyla_Wren
Summary: Friday night on Helios: our favorite Hyperion bros convince their Pandoran friends and the big boss himself to play a little tabletop rpg in Handsome Jack’s office.Just a short and goofy adventure. A sorcerer, a rogue, and a ranger are hired by a king to open a vault and find the treasure within.In the meta space, Rhys, Jack, Vaughn, Fiona and Sasha play D&D over the span of a few nights.(I really can’t believe that they’ve all CANONICALLY played D&D together before.)





	1. Chapter 1

The king was barely looking in their direction. One royal leg was draped over the arm of his throne, booted foot swinging in a lazy pendulum. His hand tapped a rhythm on the edge of his golden mask.

“Okay, listen up, nerds. You might not look like much, but I’ve been told that you three are the best at what you do - which is what, exactly?”

The three adventurers were crowded together at the base of the dias, standing close for support and dwarfed by their surroundings. The marble throne room was huge, with a vaulted ceiling hung with yellow banners and stained glass windows illustrating momentous scenes and battles from the king’s life. Rows of hulking guards in yellow plate armor stood to attention like statues on either side. It was an intimidating scene, even before you considered the ruler of Hyperion looming above them.

The small one with dreadlocks pushed the tall gangly one forward with an audible throat-clearing.

With a backwards glance of resentment, the tall one straightened up and arranged his face into a picture of smug confidence. The king wasn’t buying it for a second.

“Well, uh, your Majesty - we are Adventurers for Hire. I’m Rhys. I’m a sorcerer, and-”

“Enlighten me about what the hell that is.”

“I’m a magic-user. I have a special bond with a dark power that gives me extraordinary abilities.”

There was a hiss from behind him and a small sharp elbow that caught him in the ribs and wiped the grin off his face.

“Oof, I mean - maybe I didn’t quite reveal that to you yet. What I said was, I have extraordinary abilities. No one knows where they came from.”

The king squinted at him. “Oookay…”

“I’m Sasha,” the short one muscled in front of Rhys. “I’m a ranger. Best shot in the kingdom!”

She made two finger guns and then changed her mind, making the shape of a bow and arrow instead. After “firing”, she blew imaginary smoke off her fingers.

“Now you’re talkin’,” the king pointed at her with approval. He swung his body around to face the adventurers, showing that they had his full attention.

The other woman swept forward, hands on her hips and full of awkward showmanship. 

“I’m Fiona. I’m a rogue. Best con artist in the kingdom.”

“Oh yeah?” the king chuckled. “Kinda hard to take your word on that.”

There was a pause while cosmic forces went to work, and then it was Fiona’s turn to chuckle. 

“Missing anything there, your Majesty?”

“Huh?”

She drew a circle of gold from her coat pocket and held it aloft. 

“What the hell?” the king touched his forehead.

“Fastest hands in Hyperion!” Fiona crowed, spinning the circlet on her finger.

“Bullshit! You’re telling me I wouldn’t notice her sneaking up behind me and_ taking the crown off my head _? How dumb am I in this game?”

Jack tossed his character sheet down in irritation. Rhys snuck a look at the CEO’s intelligence stat and made a noncommittal face. 

“I got a natural twenty!” Fiona defended herself, gesturing to her dice. 

Both of them looked at their DM.

“Fine, fine,” Vaughn agreed. “The crown is a little much. Let’s say you ‘borrowed’ his pocketwatch, instead.”

“Are there clocks in this universe?” Rhys perked up. “I want a clockwork arm.”

Vaughn pursed his lips. “I really want to keep to the fantasy setting.”

“C’mon, bro, do you really want me to have just one arm in this game? Or like a wooden arm?”

“Yeah, fine, you can have a sick clockwork arm, bro. But that’s it! No one is wearing goggles or riding in airships! I’m nipping this in the bud.”

“I don’t even know what you two mega-nerds are talking about.” Jack scooted his giant chair back and put his feet up on his desk, which had been repurposed for the night’s activities. Snacks and alcohol overlapped their papers and grid board, and four mini figures posed in the center. Vaughn had painted them with the magnifier setting on his glasses and the galaxy’s smallest brushes.

Sasha grumbled. “My immersion is totally ruined.”

“Likewise,” Fiona scrolled through a store on the echonet, enjoying the air conditioning and network connectivity of Helios. She didn’t sound too bothered. Outside the enormous window that backdropped their game the stars glittered and Elpis glowed with soft reflected light.

“All right, all right, let’s start again - but let’s get more into it this time. Make it more believable,” Vaughn caught Jack’s eye and gulped. “Um, if that sounds good to you guys.”

“That sounds great, Dingus Master,” Jack purred, somehow making Vaughn even less comfortable. He leaned over to grab Rhys’ sheet and check out the new brass arm he had drawn on his character portrait. “_ That _ looks badass. King Jack thinks this peasant guy is pretty hot. Sign me up for full immersion.”

“So I convinced you to hire us?” Rhys grinned.

“Not exactly with your words, Kiddo, but it’ll do.”

  


Fiona tossed the blue crystal pocketwatch back to the King of Hyperion. Jack caught it one-handed.

“Pretty ballsy move, Rogue-Lady. I like your style. I think the three of you are just what I’m looking for.” He rose, sweeping his cloak to the side and doing some noisy stretching and yawning. “You guys ready to go now?”

“Uh,” Rhys looked over Fiona’s shoulder. “Sorry, but what exactly is the job you need us for?”

Jacked hooked his fingers in his belt. “What, you idiots didn’t read the posting? The one in the town square or whatever.”

“It just said _ help wanted for adventure _, basically.”

The king shrugged, as if this was more than enough information for anyone to risk their lives.

“Listen Buttercups, all you really need to know is that I’m paying you a cubic ton of gold to do this job with me. Like, enough gold bricks to build a house. Three garden sheds, if that’s what you’re into.”

“Oh, we are _ so _ building separate sheds,” Sasha muttered. “I’m not sharing my gold.”

Rhys held his ground. He wasn’t here just for the gold, as nice as that would be - he was here for the adventure. The _ prestige _. He was here to level up his magic skills until he was the best magic user in the kingdom and could make fun of shittier mages like Vasquez from the top of his superior magic tower. Maybe throw some eggs.

“Just tell us what we’re getting ourselves into. The more we know, the better prepared we’ll be to help,” he pointed out.

The king’s eyes glittered with a feral light that made Rhys back up a step. After a moment’s consideration, his shoulders relaxed and his whole demeanor shifted. He moved closer to the sorcerer, draping an arm over his shoulders and speaking with a conspiratorial hush.

“Hey, Rhys - _ it was Rhys, right? _ \- Rhysie, do you know what this is?” He drew something out of his cloak and twirled it between his fingers. It glowed with a faint purple light from the crystals welded in the top, a parabola set within a circle of beaten metal. The dark spike that protruded out was jagged on one edge, forming a mandible of metal teeth.

Rhys leaned forward with hungry interest. Any rare enchanted item was right up his alley. The malevolent ancient magic that housed itself in his bones and blood stirred to attention. His eyes lit with sudden blue flame, the words coming to his brain unbidden.

“It’s a vault key,” he breathed. 

Jack stilled his fingers, looking into Rhys face. “Freaky eye condition you got there, Cupcake.”

Rhys scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. When he pulled them away his irises were back to their normal amber. Fiona and Sasha crowded in to see the key.

“Holy crap, is this thing real??” Sasha squeaked.

“Why the hell wouldn’t it be?” Jack moved his hand away from the greedy stare of Fiona, giving her a warning look. She tucked her hands under her arms, as if she could not trust them.

“Well, we have sold a couple fakes in our time…”

Jack scoffed. “It’s the real deal, baby. I need you chumps to help me get to the vault and get inside, because _ these _ chumps behind me are too loud and clanking to move across a room without waking up all of Hyperion.”

“You know where the actual vault is?” Fiona could not help sounding skeptical. “Who did you have to pay for that information?”

“More like _ who did I have to kill _.” Jack chuckled. “Yeah, I have the map right here. It’s a done deal.”

_ A real vault key. To a real vault! _ Rhys’ heart was doing somersaults. Vaults were on the verge of being legends - it had been centuries since one was opened. They were famous for their rarity, the difficulty of finding one, the impossibility of entering without a key - and for the unimaginable treasure found inside. Secret knowledge, riches beyond measure… and usually monsters. It was more than worth any danger just to have a chance to be inside.

“We accept,” Rhys said, almost too quickly, trying to reign in his excitement. He looked over at his companions. “Right, guys?”

“Hell yeah,” Sasha nodded. Fiona hummed an agreement, not taking her eyes off the key until it disappeared back into the King’s pocket.

“Fannnntastic. The cart’s already packed and ready outside. You guys can ride in that, I’m taking my horse,” Jack brushed past them, already striding in the direction of the door.

“Wait, are you seriously coming along with us?” Rhys ran to catch up. “You’re not just, uh, bankrolling this venture?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “I’m a boots-on-the-ground kinda guy. I’m also not an idiot who’d hand over a vault key.”

“But won’t people notice that you’re gone? I mean, who’s gonna… rule Hyperion?”

“My body double, duh. One of them. Won’t be the first time the lives of the populace have been in his 99.9% identical hands.”

“As a citizen, that’s not very reassuring,” Fiona whispered.

They hurried along in their king’s wake, following him to their first adventure as a team. To a _ vault _. Rhys could almost feel the stars in his eyes at the thought.

  
  


“You love this shit, don’tcha Kitten?” Jack bumped his knee into Rhys’, a slow-spreading smile on his face. “You’re getting all into it.”

“So are you!” Rhys snapped, self-conscious, then recalibrated his tone. “Which is good. It’s great that you’re playing with us. We really needed a fourth.”

“Are we really done for the night? Already?” Sasha whined as Vaughn folded his screen and packed away the miniatures.

“You guys spent over _ two hours _ making your characters. And they all have the same names and personalities as you, so I don’t know why? But it’s fine. We can really get underway next time.”

Fiona yawned. “Same time next week?”

“Wait, wait, wait, we’re not playing again for a whole week?” Jack frowned, putting his mini down.

“Now who’s getting into it?” Rhys smirked. “You’re the one who’s super busy running this space station. I thought we agreed we could only do it on Fridays.”

“Hold on, Cupcake, that was before I found out I’m literally a king in this game. Let’s play tomorrow.”

The others looked at each other with _ why not? _expressions.

“I can do that,” Vaughn nodded, slipping the last papers into his messenger bag.

Jack hopped out of his chair, satisfied. “Damn right you can. Hey Babe, guess what I’m going to name my horse in this game?”

“Buttstallion?”

“_ Buttstallion _.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! If you leave a comment I always get so happy seeing them in my inbox :D


	2. Chapter 2

Dust blew over Rhys’ boots. They were on the King’s Road, as Handsome Jack had pointed out several times already. It was not the least conspicuous way to travel, but it was the most convenient for the mule-drawn cart piloted by Fiona and Sasha. They were still many days away from the vault location, so no one was too worried about being followed.

Rhys was worried about Handsome Jack, though. Their king was recognizable from outer space. He had a hood drawn up over his distinctive hair, casting his mask in shadow, but he was still riding a sparkling white horse and making constant color commentary in a loud, rich voice. There was no way any peasant they encountered on the highway would believe that the swarthy man in a golden mask was an ordinary traveller, even if they didn’t connect the dots between Jack’s face and the one on their coins.

Maybe the sorcerer would be less on edge if the king would stop talking to him. For some reason he had taken a shine to Rhys, and spent the whole morning needling him about everything from his outfit to his profession.

“Looking a little tired down there. You want in on this sweet ride, Pumpkin?” Handsome Jack patted the flank of his horse.

“No thanks, I like the exercise,” Rhys lied. Horses made him nervous. He could always ride in the cart, but it was too bumpy for his taste.

“Yeah, I guess you could stand to put a little muscle on. What did you study in sorcerer school? You didn’t get in on a sports scholarship, I’m guessing.”

“I didn’t go to a magic school.”

“No?” Handsome Jack frowned. 

“I didn’t even use magic until a few years ago.”

“He got possessed by an evil spirit,” Sasha blurted out from behind them, unable to resist.

The king blinked. Rhys looked up nervously, hyper-aware of the broadsword on the belt above him.

“It’s not an evil spirit. It’s just fae chaos magic. It’s like, morally neutral.”

“Riiight. So who’s in the driver’s seat? You or the _ fae _?”

“I’m in control,” the sorcerer snapped. Pouting didn’t do much for his case, but he couldn’t resist.

Jack rolled his eyes but refrained from pursuing the conversation.

“What’s all this, then?” the guard in front of them snapped.

The four travellers came to a grinding halt. Buttstallion reared up in displeasure.

“Wait, _ guard? _ Where did he come from?” Fiona slammed her drink down as Vaughn put another miniature out on the board.

“That’s what happens when you all fail a perception check.”

“Oh, so that’s what that was for,” Rhys ripped open a bag of skag jerky (“_ Pandora’s Best!” _).

“Yeah, he was hiding by the side of the road. Kind of like a speed trap. There are leaves and twig pieces in his hair.”

Jack sipped his beer and narrowed his eyes. The way he was actually getting into the spirit of the game was making Rhys feel giddy, although he knew the other man would never admit to enjoying it.

“Is this one of my boys? If he’s a guard on the King’s Road, I assume he must work for me.”

“That would make sense, yes,” Vaughn answered, being vague.

“Shouldn’t I just tell him to fuck off then and let the boss man pass?”

“_ No no no _,” Sasha waved a hand, covering the tiny Jack miniature’s mouth with her finger. “Don’t tell him who you are. We’re supposed to be moving incognito.”

“This is exactly what I was worried about,” Rhys moaned with his mouth full.

“Stand aside, citizens,” Fiona pushed back in her chair. “I got this.”

Fiona put down the reins of the cart mule and lifted her hat to the guard.

“Good afternoon, Officer!”

“State your business.” He tapped the side of the cart with his pike.

“We. Are. A. Family?” Fiona looked around at her companions before relaxing into her lie. “Out on a little family expedition.”

“A family, huh? You don’t look very alike.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being adopted siblings, Officer.”

“Hm, guess not. Where are you bound for?”

Fiona looked at her party again. Rhys looked like he was in the middle of a silent panic attack. Sasha was giving her an encouraging smile and moving her hand in a _ go on, go on _ gesture. Handsome Jack looked like he was one second away from stabbing the guard, a mixture of irritation and boredom passing over his face.

“How familiar am I with this area?” Fiona checked her stats. “Can I role for… history? Maybe I remember some landmarks.”

“Sure.” Vaughn took advantage of the pause to steal some of his best bro’s jerky stash.

“I got a six.”

“Ha! Ok, you only know one place, then.”

Fiona looked the guard dead in the eyes. “We’re going to Moxxxi’s Tavern.”

“On a family outing?”

“Yes, sir. They have great wings.”

The guard glared in silence. Fiona didn’t budge.

“All right then. On your way.”

There was a collective release of held breath. The adventurers’ relief was short-lived, however.

“In fact, I will escort you. I’m going that way myself.” The guard turned on his heel and started stomping off, expecting them to follow, and launching into a long-winded monologue about local crime.

“How far away is the tavern?” Sasha whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

“Six miles,” Fiona whispered back. They all groaned.

“Can I kill him? Just, fuckin’, stab him in the back? I have a _ huge _ sword right here,” Jack whispered to Rhys, not very quietly.

“No!” the sorcerer hissed. “We can’t commit murder right off the bat and have every guard on our trail. Not on the first day! Not on the King’s Road!”

“Fine. Jesus.” Jack turned back to the road, twitching Buttstallion’s reins with irritation. He only stayed silent for a moment. “What if I just hide his body really well? Then I can give us all royal pardons when we get back.”

Rhys scrubbed his brass hand through his hair and didn’t respond.

Six long miles later, Moxxi’s tavern emerged from the trees. It looked more like an asymmetrical heap of driftwood piled up on the side of the road than a building, with a heart-shaped sign swinging above the door. Dancing firelight and the sound of drunken chatter seeped out from every nook and cranny. The adventurers would have walked right on past it and kept going if the highway guard hadn’t stopped to see them off. Under his watchful eye, they had to hitch up the animals and make a show of opening the sticky door.

Rhys had the presence of mind to cast a glamour spell on the king before he was all the way inside. Now if anyone looked in his direction they would only see an ordinary person - someone so unworthy of notice you couldn’t even focus on their face.

“Ugh, this looks like the type of dive where bards come to play,” Handsome Jack said to Rhys over his shoulder. The bend of light at his cheekbone was sharp and bright, and the sorcerer could still the king’s mismatched eyes glittering beneath the hasty illusion. “I love launching those losers out of windows.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” Rhys suppressed a shudder. The king was a notorious despiser of bad music, and more luckless bards had flown out of the tallest tower of Helios Castle then messenger pigeons.

The tavern was one large open space, lit by a huge fireplace and wall sconces. Tables full of dice players and people in various states of intoxication were piled in so close together that they were rubbing elbows. Rhys got the impression that about half the room was in the process of robbing the other half. 

He also noticed, with a slight gulp, that everyone in the tavern looked like a bandit. There was a lot of bare, muscled skin with obvious scarring, lots of frightening masks pushed up on foreheads, and most clothing that was present was a mixture of tattered cloth and spiked scrap metal armor. More than a few angry faces turned in their direction when they entered. Jack swaggered by them all like he didn’t see them.

Fiona, Sasha, and the king swung onto barstools in one coordinated motion and all tried to order at once. Rhys followed, wondering how he had gotten caught up with three such bossy people.

The bartender, a man with a blonde goatee and a nose ring, brought out four meads and started flirting with Sasha like it was his true vocation. Jack handed Rhys one of the tankards and submerged himself in his own.

Everything was okay, for a little while. Rhys snagged an empty barstool when someone got up, and listened to Jack tell self-aggrandizing stories while the drink relaxed his muscles and made him feel warm and fizzy. Fiona joined a dice game at the nearest table, more comfortable in the rustic surroundings than Rhys could be.

Handsome Jack was somehow acting even more at home. He purchased a long pipe and some tobacco from the bartender, and sat back with his legs spread out, wreathed in smoke and illustrating his story with lots of hand gestures in all the murder-y parts.

“How are you so comfortable?” Rhys said in a drowsy voice, when the king paused to drink. “You’re the king. Aren’t you used to being in the castle all the time? Isn’t this place weird and dirty for you?”

Jack barked a laugh. “I’ve only been in that castle for 5 years, kiddo. I was an alchemist before that, and I’ve seen plenty of dirt. Are you not from here?”

Rhys frowned. “No, I’m from Edenhelm, across the river.”

“Ah, that explains a lot. Like why I’ve never seen something like your arm before. I like to think that I know what goes on in my own kingdom.”

“I made it myself,” Rhys patted the cool metal, trying to ignore the ever-present hungry stares of scrapper bandits around them. “Five years? That’s all?”

“Do you remember King Tassiter?”

Rhys winced. He had never been very good with his history of the monarchy, but the name reminded him of some news of a coup in Hyperion. News that had reached him something like 5 years ago.

“Not your father, I’m guessing?” Rhys gulped.

“Nope. Just a tyrant I deposed. You’re welcome.” Jack actually winked.

“You CHEATED!” The angry bellow behind them made Rhys spill some of his mead.

The table Fiona had joined was turning against her. The sorcerer could see why - she had amassed a huge pile of coins and other odds and ends that passed for currency in this bar. The pissed off bandit who yelled at her was standing up, leaning forward as a threat. Fiona didn’t move, just sized him up with a cold stare. Sasha left the bar to stand beside her.

Jack intervened, twisting around in his seat to laugh in the bandit’s face.

“Shut the hell up. You a sore loser? Gonna cryyyy about it?”

“Give me the money or I kill you,” the bandit ignored Jack, reaching for Fiona’s cash pile. The king stuck his foot out and rested it on the table, blocking his path. 

“You don’t even know the rules of the game, you idiot. Look at you. What are you, four generations of inbred?”

“Shut your mouth, you little nobody.” 

Jack blew smoke out of his nose, voice dropping to a dangerous pitch. 

“Little... _ nobody? _” he repeated, incredulous.

“Dat’s what I said, you -”

Jack’s punch caught the bandit clean across the jaw, knocking him backwards over a chair. 

As if an eagerly awaited starter pistol had been fired, an all-out brawl began. Rhys slid under a table, throwing a conjured acid splash at the first person who lunged at him. The pleasant feeling of the mead was evaporating into tense survival mode. _ It was only a matter of time, _ he thought.

Sasha was standing on the bar above him, firing off her arrows as fast as she could notch them. Her enchanted bolts were turning people slag-purple, leaving a distinct trail of her handiwork until she switched it up and pulled shocking arrows from another compartment of her quiver. The ranger was giving every indication that she was having a rip roarin’ good time.

Another bandit started dragging Rhys out by his ankles, which was as embarrassing as it was alarming. After trying and failing to disengage, he used his favorite old standby spell and shocked them with a bolt of lightning that crackled off of his brass hand. The bandit blew backwards from the force, and Rhys could scoot out from under the table as it collapsed under the weight of a falling body.

“Hey, I wanna kill the guy that called me a nobody.”

“Okay. Roll for it.”

“Hoo boy, nineteen.”

“That’ll work. Damage?”

“So fuckin’ much.”

Handsome Jack was digging his knife into the bandit’s throat, with all the gore and noises associated. Rhys tucked that image away to process later, probably in therapy, while crouching behind the scant cover offered by a broken stool. Fiona was doing acrobatics, a knife in both hands, somehow keeping her hat secured to her head even when upside down.

A huge armoured fighter rumbled deep in his chest, launching himself in Rhys’ direction. He looked bigger, stronger, and generally more _ badass _ than any other bandit in the whole bar. He was carrying an enormous metal shield and a wicked looking butcher knife. As he brought it down, Rhys wondered how he hadn’t noticed this fine fellow when they first came in.

The king stepped into the bandit’s path, swinging his broadsword like he was up at bat.

“_ Natty twenty _,” Jack slapped the table, making his dice shake.

The bandit’s head came clean off, sailing through the air and getting impaled at a jaunty angle on the tusk of the stuffed boar over the fireplace. The tavern resounded with gasps. Jack grinned, not bothering to wipe the spray of blood off his face.

An arrow whizzed by Rhys’ ear. Fiona appeared at his elbow in the blink of an eye.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Agreed. Lights out,” Rhys snapped the fingers of his human hand. Every flame in the tavern snuffed out at once. He savored that perfect dark, the instant of surprise when everything was silent. Then chaos returned, everyone coughing on candle smoke as they flailed in the general direction of their enemies. The sorcerer grabbed the king’s arm and pulled him outside, surprised at the lack of resistance but glad that Jack could identify the source of a cold metal hand.

Fiona cut the ropes tethering their mule and Buttstallion. Sasha sprinted to the side of the cart and somersaulted in. The king hopped astride his horse and pulled Rhys up with him, refusing to listen to any alternatives.

The sorcerer tried to stay as still as possible on the moving horse (wishful thinking), Handsome Jack’s arms wrapped around him. The king was getting bandit blood all over the other man’s cloak and seemed unconscious of how close they were. Rhys, on the other hand, was _ very aware _.

“Don’t you have any flame arrows?” his captor asked Sasha, as the group galloped at top speed and Moxxi’s Tavern retreated in the distance. “Light that puppy up.”

Sasha started to notch a box before considering. “Nah, that cute bartender is still in there.”

“_ That’s _ the only reason why you won’t burn down the tavern? After you’re already making a clean getaway?” Vaughn dropped his head in his hands. He sat up again with a wild look in his eyes. “Let me see your alignments.”

The table dutifully handed their sheets in. Jack leaned over to Rhys.

“I’m coppin’ a feel while you’re on the horse with me.”

“Chaotic neutral, chaotic neutral, true neutral, um, this one has_ lawful good _ crossed out and true neutral written above it…” Vaughn sighed. “Most parties kind of see themselves as Champions for Good, but this will work too.”

“Hey, don’t get it twisted. We are the heroes.”

“...Right. Okay, what do you guys want to do now? Will you stop for the night?”

“Yeah, let’s camp in the woods, off the road,” Sasha doodled a moon and stars on her tablet. “We should cover our tracks and put brush over the wagon to hide it. I’m good at that stuff, right? _ Ranger stuff _.”

“Yes, you are. Campfire or no campfire?”

“Do I perceive danger? I roll a… twelve.”

“Nobody seems to be anywhere near the campsite, as far as you can tell.”

“Ok, then I think I would build a fire. I do want to go on a patrol, though.”

“I’ll come with you,” Fiona said. “I also want to count my winnings from the tavern.”

“By the way, were you cheating at that dice game?”

“Oh, do you even have to ask?”

  


Firelight flickered across Rhys’ brass arm as he tinkered with it. He had it detached and resting across his knees, bracing it and turning a tiny screw with expert hands.

Handsome Jack ambled over to his side, a canteen of alcohol in hand. He swept back his cloak and took a seat on the dry oak next to the sorcerer, staring down at the clockwork arm. Rhys gave him a small smile in greeting, his hand still turning a small tool of his own design.

He stilled when he felt the king touch his shoulder, pushing aside the edge of Rhys’ mantle with curious, lazy fingers. The sorcerer never wore a sleeve on that side, so he knew his scar was visible - a huge twisted gash that marked where his arm had been. The back of his neck prickled as he sat frozen in place. Jack let the mantle fall back down without comment. Rhys felt an angry flush burn across his cheeks, unable to look up and meet the other man’s eyes. There was being entitled and rude, and then there was being _ entitled and rude _, you know? He wondered how much the king had been drinking.

Handsome Jack took a swig from his canteen and released a small sigh. Rhys finally looked up at him, gathering the courage to unleash a scolding.

Jack was staring into the fire like he was watching a scene play out a hundred miles away. He brought his hand up to his face and took it away again, holding his mask.

If Rhys had felt frozen before, he was now permafrost. Petrified wood. He could have caught on fire and not moved a muscle - his eyes locked on the king and his mind emptied by shock.

_ No one _ saw the king without his mask. No one. That was just a fact of life in Hyperion. In this kingdom, you obeyed the law, you studied magic, you paid your taxes, and the king wore a mask. Those were just facts.

Handsome Jack’s eyes slid over to Rhys’, and he took another swig without breaking the contact. His mouth turned up in an ironic smile.

“Warm by the fire, huh?” he said. If Rhys didn’t catch the smallest glimmer of doubt in Jack’s remaining eye he would have thought everything was normal. The other was milk white, unseeing. A parabola of blue scar tissue glowed against pale skin that never saw sunlight.

“Yeah. It’s nice, though,” he said, turning back to the brass arm in his lap. _ The fire and the face, both. _

They sat in companionable silence for a while, both of them relaxing as the minutes ticked by without any tragic backstories rolling out.

“Do you know any party tricks with that magic of yours?” Jack asked, gesturing at Rhys with his canteen.

The sorcerer laughed, breaking any remaining tension. “Party tricks?”

“Yeah, like - make the fire green. I’ve seen that one. It’s a classic.”

“Uh, ok.” 

Rhys put down the tool and rubbed his fingers together, whispering under his breath. With his human hand he pointed - _ one, two, three, four _. Four green lights appeared above them, dancing.

The sorcerer made them spin around Jack, moving like they were being juggled. The king laughed in genuine appreciation, reaching out to catch one and missing as Rhys made it dart away. He had them float over to the fire and converge, falling into the pit and burning higher with green ribbons of flame that reflected off of both of their grinning faces.

Handsome Jack handed his canteen to Rhys, slapping his thigh in appreciation.

“That’s what I’m talking about, Kiddo. Magic is fun as hell.”

“Heh.” Rhys brought the canteen up to his mouth, smelling strong alcohol and painfully aware of where Jack’s lips had been just a moment ago.

The other man seemed to read his thoughts, watching him with a calculating expression. Jack leaned in close, a predatory grin spreading across his face. He brought one finger under the sorcerer’s chin, tracing his jaw and drawing him closer.

“Uhhh…. _ Guys _...” the voice of Vaughn boomed from the sky. 

Rhys sprang back as if he’d been burned. He shuffled his character sheet, shooting the table a sheepish smile.

Vaughn was scarlet, gripping the edges of the DM screen. “Can you, uh, not?”

“Yeah, it’s gross,” Sasha said around a mouthful of popcorn.

Jack grabbed his dice and gave them a good shake, unembarrassed. “I’m gonna role to seduce the sorcerer. What do I add for that? Plus one million?”

“It’s your Charisma mod,” Fiona supplied, cracking her gum. She hadn’t looked up from her echo device once during the entire exchange.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go ahead and auto-fail that,” Vaughn insisted. 

“Booo, you suck, Muscles.” Jack elbowed Rhys and waggled his eyebrows. “Charisma is my highest stat, Babe.”

Rhys held back from commenting.

“Let’s skip to the morning,” Vaughn shot his boss a sharp look. “The night passed _ uneventfully _.”

Fiona stood up to blink in the morning light, the edges of the tent clinging to her as the dew ran off. She adjusted her hat, tucking her hair beneath it.

“Do you sleep in that thing?” Jack asked her from his bedroll by the extinguished fire, not even opening his eyes.

“None of your business, your Majesty. Sasha, can you make breakfast? Please? Pretty please?”

Sasha was more inclined to sleep in. As was Rhys, who only woke up when they resorted to pouring hot coffee into his open, snoring mouth.

Jack unrolled his map on the ground, using some rocks close at hand to pin down the corners.

“All right, Cupcakes, here’s where we are now. We should be arriving at the vault in… seven days.”

Sasha stomped into the camp, carrying the cooking pots wet from the creek.

“Bad news, guys. We’re out of food. I also didn’t manage to catch any fish even though I’m _ supposed _ to be good at it, just because of some arbitrary chance of fate.”

Fiona groaned. Rhys sipped his coffee, out of a mug this time, and made a thoughtful frown.

“Hey, can I roll for a shortcut?”

“A shortcut? That’s not an ability, bro,” Vaughn’s eyes twinkled behind his glasses.

“Yeah, I know. I want to see if I know anything, any rumor or history about a faster way to get to this vault.”

Vaughn chewed on a thumbnail, nodding. Rhys recognized that look. Their DM had an idea. An idea he really liked.

“Roll for arcana,” he said.

“Ooo, mysterious,” Rhys tossed his dice. “Eighteen. Plus three, so twenty-one.”

“I know a shortcut,” the sorcerer said. His voice had a second tone overlaid on it, sharper and deeper. The other three turned to look at him.

“Hey, kiddo - your eyes are, ah,” Handsome Jack gestured towards his own face in a vague circle.

Rhys blinked. His eyes were fully blue from corner to corner - and glowing, matching the light that seeped from his tattoos under his collar and sleeve.

“Sorry, it’s just the fae magic,” he grumbled, static clinging to his words.

For once Jack didn’t have a reply ready. Fiona and Sasha were less impressed, having known Rhys long enough.

“There’s a permanent teleportation circle near here. We can fast-travel to the vault entrance.”

“What’s the catch?” Sasha knew there always was one.

“Oh, it’s guarded by the witch that cast it. It’s not a big deal. We just have to pay her.”

Handsome Jack relaxed. “Money is no object, Pumpkin. Let’s go.”

Fiona whimpered about breakfast, but they gathered themselves up and moved on an empty stomach. The teleporter was deep in the woods. Here the trees were so tall they covered the view of the distant mountains and made a canopy of green overhead. Strange birds made haunting calls through the branches. The earth began to sink down as they walked into a green bowl of moss-covered ancient stones and thick vines.

An enormous woman in practical clothes stood in the center of the bowl. Her hands were on her hips, an amused smile on her lips. She looked both beautiful and more than capable of crushing any of them to death.

“Howdy, Darlins. Y’all here to use my teleporter?”

“Yes ma’am,” Fiona tipped her hat. It was becoming clear that she was the most charismatic of their group, and she was taking the role of “team spokesperson” on with grace. “How much does it cost?”

“For y’all? Let’s see…” 

The witch’s sharp eyes fell on each party member in turn. Rhys’ heart sank when he realized he forgot to recast a glamour on the king. She may have been able to see through his power anyhow, he reasoned. As it was, she_ had _ to recognize him, and was committing all of their faces to memory. Maybe this had been a bad idea.

“It won’t cost a coin. You’ll just do a little job for me.”

Three hours of real time later, one turf war between forest elves had been extinguished and the mini sidequest had been completed. Fiona crossed out health potions on her inventory sheet as her counterpart gulped them down.

“Here’s your family heirloom, Ma’am,” Rhys wheezed, holding out the 40 lb iron cauldron that the witch had insisted they drag back through the forest. The whole party had mud splashed on their armor and leaves in their hair. Handsome Jack had a broken arrow sticking out his shoulder. Rhys himself had a black eye.

“Goodberry, anyone?” Sasha had a mouthful of them. They tasted awful but had healing properties.

“Thank youuu darlins! Y’all are just the best. Hop in the circle, now. Sorcerer, you concentrate on where y’all wanna go.”

Rhys took one last peek at Jack’s map before declaring them ready.

As they dissolved into blue light, the witch’s voice bounced around them.

“Thanks for doing that crazy-ass quest for me. You know I couldn’t resist messin’ with our king.”

Handsome Jack cracked up. 

“What a bitch. I should go back and exile her after we get to the vault.” His tone betrayed his admiration.

“You can try.” Vaughn reached out and plucked her mini off the board. “She’s a level twenty spellcaster and she’s lived in the woods there for centuries. Do you guys want to stop playing for the night?”

A chorus of denials hit him, along with four variations of _ not when we’re so close! _

“Okay, okay, we can continue. You all rematerialize on the spot Rhys chose from the map. It’s right under the mountain range, at the base of a stone cliff.”

“Do we see a door?”

“Roll for investigation.”

The four adventurers picked over the area, scanning the rocks and trees. Sasha climbed a tree and shouted down from the top.

“I don’t see anything!”

Handsome Jack glanced back and forth between his map and the mountain over and over again.

“Yeah, no shit, whodathunk a VAULT entrance would be hard to see.”

Sasha made a face. Everyone was a little anxious, hitting a stumbling block this close to their prize. They walked around at random for a few minutes, searching, kicking at rocks, touching the ground, etc.

“Wait, wait, wait, why are we all standing around like idiots? What does a vault need to open – _ a charged key. _ Duh.”

“Well, how are we supposed to charge it?” Fiona stopped and turned to Rhys as she realized.

“With magic,” the sorcerer answered, flexing his metal hand. “Okay Vaughn, how is this going to work?”

The DM giggled with actual glee. “Okay, you figured it out. If you want to charge up the vault key, it’s going to sap a lot of your HP.”

Rhys narrowed his eyes. “How much?”

“It’s gonna take you all the way down to one.”

“Right before we enter a vault? Where I am not allowed to take a long rest and get health back?”

“That’s correct. Vaults have their price! Just be glad this one isn’t steeper.”

“Fine.”

“Attaboy. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.” Handsome Jack lifted the key out to Rhys.

The sorcerer touched the jagged edge, feeling the chaos magic within him stir. His tattoos and eyes were bleeding light, he could feel it, just as he felt the pull of the key on his magic. The effect was twofold – his magic wanted to enter the key as much as the key wanted to drink him dry. He felt his strength fading, and as the key lit with its fullest power, he stumbled forward into Jack’s arms. The king caught him and held him upright.

The gems in the key burned with purple fire. They cast an arc of light across the mountain face before them, eating into the rock. The stones were falling back to reveal an arched doorway.

“It worked,” Handsome Jack whistled. He patted Rhys’ shoulder. “Still kickin’, princess? Stay behind us when we go inside.”

Rhys didn’t even try to argue. Sasha and Fiona were already striding towards the entrance, making Jack catch up and butt in front of them after a short struggle where no one kept their dignity. They all made it in, one way or another, and were met with a very large, very cold, and very dark chamber of stone and crystal.

“Uh. Is it supposed to be this empty?” Fiona lit a torch and moved it around. “Are we not the first ones to find this vault?”

“It is _ absolutely impossible _ that anyone got here before us.” Rising anger warred with desperation in Jack’s voice. “There has to be something here.”

Behind them, their weakened sorcerer found the pink health potion he had been searching for in his shoulder bag and downed it, feeling roughly 5 hp healthier. Now able to stand up straight, he cast his gaze around the room.

The far wall was moving. Rhys’ brain could not keep up with his eyes as he watched the purple tiles shift and writhe, a boulder lifting from the floor and kindling with twin flames. _ Eyes _. Those were eyes. And that thing wasn’t part of the decor. It was a vault dragon.

And it was waking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ellie is the most badass witch in the woods!  
I hope you enjoy reading this nonsense as much as I liked writing it :)  
Comments make me so happy!


	3. Chapter 3

“Holy….  _ Shit _ -”

The creature was moving towards them, a quick lumbering gait that picked up inertia as its huge body rolled from side to side. The ground was literally shaking from its footfalls, the stone floor of the vault buckling and cracking like an earthquake. The adventurers were nearly knocked off their feet, sprinting in opposite directions. It was like trying to run inside a falling elevator.

Sasha fired off a few elemental shots from her bow, running up the boulders on the North side of the vault and aiming while she moved. Some corrosive arrows skittered across the floor at its feet, melting the stone. One lodged itself in the creature’s spiny ankle, where it was ignored. 

It all happened faster than Rhys could comprehend. The dragon’s paw was swiping towards him, only allowing a split second of panic before he was pushed backwards by human hands, hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs. The claws passed him, close enough to tear his cloak as he fell against the rubble. Rhys saw a figure flung through the air, slamming into the far wall with the sound of cracking bone. The figure crumpled and slid to the floor, motionless. 

It was Jack.

Jack had saved him.

Rhys felt his heart constrict. Even his fear of the creature wasn’t enough to drown out the other, more pressing terror. 

He made a run for the far wall, shooting bursts of stinging electricity to the creature’s side. Fiona had it distracted, digging her daggers between its shoulders. A far corner of Rhys’ brain wondered if it felt anything through that purple-scaled hide - pinpricks, maybe. Splinters.

“Jack!  _ Jack!! _ ”

The unnatural stillness of the king’s body made Rhys want to vomit. He slid to his knees as he reached him, clumsy and shaking as he gathered the other man more or less into his lap and scrabbled around in his bag for a spell scroll. The golden mask lay in pieces on the floor.

Fiona slid off the spines of the creature’s back and down the length of its tail, attempting to disengage as it whipped around, scenting her blood.

“Rhys!! We need some magic, NOW!!”

“You have to wait!” Rhys yelled back in a strangled voice. He was still whispering incantations under his breath, as monotone as possible while suppressing pure panic. Blue light flickered out of his human hand, sinking into Jack’s chest and his un-beating heart. He stumbled on his words as he translated a spell of his own design into Old Eridian.  _ I call on chaos magic to manipulate chance and fate….  _

“If you fail this roll again you’re perma-dead,” Vaughn said, eyes round as saucers.

Jack cursed, shaking his dice far longer than was necessary. He had Rhys’ help in the form of an extra d20 and advantage on the roll. The whole table was bent forward, white-knuckled. Sasha was chewing so hard on a stylus she was leaving marks. Rhys was running both hands through his hair for the hundredth time, completely mussing it. Even Fiona was taking a pause from complaining about her low HP.

The dice fell in a clatter, rolling, rolling, rolling…. And stuttering to a stop, right under Vaughn’s nose.

  
  


Rhys touched the side of Jack’s face, feeling the soft hair at his temple and the smooth edge of his cheekbone. There was the rough line of his scar, too, with its soft blue glow like Rhys’ magic. No mask, no crown. Only the face of a man under his shaking fingers. 

Jack’s eyes fluttered open.

“You’re alive!” Rhys cried out in disbelief. Jack actually smiled at him, the same sly grin he made when telling dirty jokes or insulting him, despite his unusual position. 

“I feel like shit! Just when I finally got on your lap, too.”

Rhys’ relieved laugh was cut off by Fiona tumbling down to their side.

“Great, you’re awake - now make with the stabbing!! Go stick a sword in it! You, get a spell going! We can’t pick up your slack forever!”

Jack rallied enough to hoist himself upright. He really was just on the other side of dead. Still, he let loose a pretty rousing war cry as he launched himself in the creature’s direction, sword out, blood trickling down his torso.

Rhys pawed through his spellbook like a madman, losing pages from the broken binding and leaving bloody fingerprints everywhere. Most of his spells were spent.

“Hey, boost me,” Sasha called out to him, running over to his side. She notched a shock arrow, aiming it at where Jack and Fiona were hacking away at the dragon’s flanks.

Rhys reached out, lending her the advantage of his magic. It snaked through the air, twisting around her bow. For a fleeting moment all of Sasha’s body glowed blue.

Her arrow flew straight and true, blowing through the creature’s eye and halting in its skull.

The dragon let out a wail that echoed from the walls of the vault. It made Rhys’ blood run cold, vibrating through his bones and seeping into his brain. The soundtrack for future nightmares, for sure.

“Killshot!” Sasha screamed in triumph.

The dragon dissolved into bright pieces as it fell. It was raining loot. Gems, gold bars, weapons, wands, spellbooks, enchanted armor - anything you could hope for was falling out of thin air and bouncing like marshmallows across the floor. Rainbow light glinted from each object as it fell, until treasure littered the vault like confetti. 

Sasha and Fiona laughed and frolicked in it like kids in a ballpit, yelling, picking up the nearest pieces of treasure, showing them to each other, and yelling again.

Rhys just stood and soaked it all in, arms crossed, a peaceful smile on his face and his injuries forgotten. They had really done it. Really found a vault, really opened it, and really defeated its guardian. The loot was great - he couldn’t wait to spend the next few weeks or months cracking open every new spellbook one at a time and parsing out its secrets - but the experience was the real treasure.

He looked over to see what Jack was doing, and was surprised to see the king staring at him with an unreadable expression. Before he could ask, the other man was kissing him - tangling his fingers in Rhys’ hair and tracing them down his neck. Rhys’ noise of surprise turned into one of happiness.

“You’re the best loot in here, Rhysie.”

“Rich! Rich! I’m finally richhhhh!!!!” Fiona blew by them like an emergency siren, dropping fistfuls of gems in her wake.

The four adventurers walked out of the vault and into the evening light, carrying dozens of elemental weapons, their backpacks clanking with gold bars and enchanted books. The unmistakable feeling of  _ Leveling Up _ coursed through their veins.

  
  


“We send my soldiers back in to get the rest, right?” Jack was tapping his stylus on the edge of his desk, eyes bright with the thought of profits (even imaginary ones). “Some wagons or something?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. No coin left behind,” Vaughn comforted, closing his notebook. “Man, you guys really blew through this campaign. I guess that’s what happens when you play every single night… because it’s mandatory… for your job.”

“Bro, that was  _ so fun _ . Thank you for running the game.”

There was a chorus of  _ thank you _ s echoing Rhys, even including one from Jack.

“Thanks, Muscles. You’re pretty good at this. You know, if you ever want to write a holovid for the echonet, let me know. I bet I can free up some funding in the name of company morale.”

Jack left the stunned accountant to mumble his excited thanks. He walked over to Rhys and lifted the other man’s bag out of his hands, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Let’s get turkey legs delivered. Meat pies. Some renaissance faire shit.”

“It’s two in the morning, Jack.”

“Yeah, second dinner o’clock, Babe.”

Rhys just laughed and punched the elevator call button to take them back home to the penthouse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this utter tomfoolery that I have created :) Hope you had fun!


End file.
